Tales from the Bathroom Floor
by MrMrsBranson
Summary: Shower sex is fun, but dangerous! Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

Tales from the Bathroom Floor

"Tom? Tom? Are you okay?" Sybil frantically tried to untangle herself from her husband who was now lying in an uncomfortable heap on their bathroom floor. "Tom, seriously talk to me…." She was starting to worry and desperately needed him to open his eyes and say something, anything.

"I think you broke me." He opened one eye and peaked up at her, trying to contain a strained smirk.

Wrapping a towel around herself, she started giggling and shut off the shower. "Well, you did say you wanted to spice up our sex life. Besides, in the movies, they always have sex in the shower. 'Course, normally the shower door doesn't give way." She touched her forehead noticing that there was rather a tender lump there. Tom started to roll over when he stopped abruptly and froze in position.

"Um, Sybil."

Sybil turned immediately to him hearing an unfamiliar tightness in his voice, "What?"

"My back is, um really stiff, kind of …wow, I don't think I can get up by myself." He grunted out the words practically between clenched teeth.

"Ok…." Sybil started to panic and she came around to his side and kneeled down. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I …can't get up. I think I wrenched my back." Each word was gruff and tinged with pain.

"Um, ok," Sybil started to go through her options in her mind. Who should she call? She can't exactly call the hospital; she works there for Christ sake and they will never let her live that down. Her husband threw his back out having sex with her in the shower. What's the protocol for dealing with that exactly?

"I think you should call for an ambulance."

"It can't be that bad. Maybe if you just lie here a minute…" She was rambling and she knew it, grasping for straws, for any solution that did not involve total humiliation.

"Get the phone."

"Tom, we can't, what will they say when they find you here?"

"I don't really care right now!" Tom tried to keep from shouting at her; he knew she was embarrassed, but the pain was overwhelming. He took a shallow breath, "Sybil please, this hurts like hell. And it's either call for an ambulance or you call Matthew to help heave me off this floor."

Sybil could tell from the almost frightened look in his eyes that she needed to get him help as fast as she could; humiliation would have to take a back seat to making sure he was okay. "I'm sorry, you're right. Of course I'll call. Be right back."

She ran through the bedroom quickly collecting underwear, shorts and a t-shirt and then she tore through their living room looking for the cordless phone.

Finding the phone, she reassured herself that this would all be alright, "C'mon Sybil, this wont be the worst thing they've ever seen, they're paramedics." She slowly dialled the number.

"999, What's your emergency?"

"Um, well I don't know if it is really an emergency," she drew out each syllable, "but my husband has thrown out his back and can't move."

"I see, is he in pain?"

"Yes, I think it's bad."

"Is he conscious? Is he bleeding?"

"No, but I don't think I can get him into a car."

"I understand miss. I'm sending an ambulance, is your address 49 Chamberlain Crescent, W1?

"Yes." Sybil wondered for a moment how the operator knew that? Was she psychic? Did she already know how Tom threw his back out? She shook her head, smirking slightly, as she remembered that the address comes up when you call.

"Alright, sit tight, they'll be there shortly."

"Ok, um, what should I do while we wait?"

"Keep him warm miss."

"Oh, of course. Thank you." She knew that. She was a bloody nurse after all. But why when it came to looking after her own husband was she forgetting the simplest of things?

Sybil slammed down the phone, and ran back to the bathroom, realizing she had left Tom laying there wet and naked. "I am so sorry, I forgot you were, um, naked in here." She took a big towel and put it over him, tucking the ends under him. She took another towel and tucked it under his head. Kneeling down next to him, she smoothed the hair back out of his eyes, "How are you doing?"

"Well, I've been better." He tried to smile to ease her concern and he turned his head into her hand, kissing her palm. He looked up at her and, blinking several times, finally realized that he wasn't the only casualty. "Hey, your forehead? Did you hit your head on the way down?"

"I'm okay."

"Sybil, seriously…" He reached up to touch the red mark on her head and he noticed her flinch, "You're hurt too."

"I just hit my head on the frame as we crashed through, it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal, go get some ice for it." He desperately wished that he could move right now so that he could take care of her.

"Really, I'm fine." She loved that he was worried for her, but she just wanted to get him seen to and for this day to be over with. She also had no idea how she was going to explain to the paramedics this situation in their bathroom.

"Wow, I really wish I had my boxers on."

"Yeah, um, I could try to..uh…put them on, if you want." Tom was astonished how shy Sybil had suddenly become when they were just having sex not fifteen minutes ago.

"I don't know if that's gonna work, but, yeah, let's try anyway."

"'Kay." Sybil got up and quickly went to retrieve the necessary boxers and gym pants. As she knelled down at his feet, she put the boxers inside the pants thinking that if she were actually able to do this, she surely wouldn't be able to do it twice. "I think this might hurt. Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure that I don't want to be wheeled through the hospital car park naked, just do it."

Sybil was not sure how to do this, but she was certain this was really going to cause him a lot of pain. Her dad had thrown his back out once and she remembered how every little movement was painful for him. She took a deep breath and decided that whatever she did, she should do it confidently and quickly even if that wasn't how she felt. She scooped up his feet in her arms and lifted about 6 inches off the ground. She could feel Tom's body tense up as he let out the most horrible sounds, "I'm so sorry, should I stop?"

"No," he grunted, "ugh, keep going."

"Two more seconds." Sybil was surprised by the even sound of her voice. But she knew she could do this, and that Tom would be happier not being quite as exposed. "Just breathe deep."

"What?"

"It helps. So just try it."

"O-kay." She heard him try to keep a deep breath while she eased the pants up to his knees and gently put his feet down.

"So ….that was terrible." She leaned against the wall, "And I'm not sure how to get them past your knees, you're really kind of heavy all frozen up like this."

Tom tried to calm himself, but that had hurt worse than the expected. He started to wonder how embarrassing it could possibly be to just go naked. "I'm starting to get flashes of what this might be like when we're old and gray."

Sybil couldn't help but reply sarcastically, "Yeah…this is fun."

Tom decided that lightening the moment would be a good thing. "Hey Sybil?"

"Yeah?"

"I've fallen and I can't get up."

"Oh shut up." Sybil giggled and swatted his arm playfully, grateful for the release.

His heart lifted seeing her laugh at his little joke, he loved how her smile could warm him regardless of the situation he was is, "What I'm naked, wet, and in pain, clearly I'm allowed a few jokes."

"So true. Okay, they're gonna be here soon, what do you want to do?"

"Well, I guess we could say I fell off the toilet." They both erupted again in almost giddy laughter.

"That's so much better, Tom."

"Well I think this shower door sort of blows our cover."

"Yup." Sybil smiled shyly at her husband, realizing that even after all the years; their relationship still had its most essential quality. They were best friends; and today, more than ever, she realized what an asset that was. They could deal with this. She took a resigned breath and leveled her stare on him, "Ready? I think one more try and we have it."

"And then I have pants, sounds like a plan."

Sybil got up and stood over him, bending at the waist to start shimmying the pants up. She tried very hard not to disturb him too much, but stopped momentarily when she heard Tom start to laugh, or cry, she wasn't sure.

"What? Are you okay?"

"Oh I'm fine, you're giving me an incredible view right now."

Sybil looked down at her chest realizing her v-neck was allowing Tom quite the sight, "What, urg, Tom! Quit staring down my shirt."

"Please I'm a dying man!"

"Shut up." She had managed to get the shorts almost the entire way without disturbing him too much. She made a final push to finish the job. "I don't know that I've ever tried this hard to get your pants on. Not that I really have to try too hard to get your pants off." She crooked an eyebrow at him and they both started to laugh again, unable to suppress their amusement at their current situation.

"Glad you're starting to see the humor here, I mean really this is classic. Humiliating and painful, but classic."

Sybil nodded happily thinking that this would be a story they could laugh about for years to come. They were startled by a hard pounding on the front door.

She opened the door to a man and woman with a stretcher; Sybil fumbled for a moment realizing she had no idea how to greet paramedics, "Uh, Hi, he's …this way."

She motioned for them to follow her into the bathroom, bracing herself for the humiliation that was sure to follow. Because the bathroom wasn't very big she stayed in the doorway so that they would have the room to get to Tom.

"Hello sir, I'm Olivia and this is Edward, how are you doing?" Olivia had a stern and commanding voice and demeanor. She surely ruled every room she walked into.

"Well, my back sort of tensed up here and, honestly, it hurts to even think about moving."

"Hmm." Olivia was fingering the back of his neck, checking that nothing seemed broken or out of alignment. "Did you fall?"

Tom glanced at Sybil and said, "Yeah, uh, I slipped coming out of the shower." Tom braced himself for more questions and felt relieved as he watched Olivia nod absentmindedly as she took his vitals. She asked him a few more questions to assess his condition and then nodded to Edward to get the stretcher ready.

"Alright Tom, looks like nothing too serious; probably just a really bad muscle spasm. We're going to put you on this stretcher and then the hospital will give you some wonderful drugs to make this little mishap just a memory."

Sybil watched as the man rolled Tom to his side just enough to slide a back board under him and the two made quick work of getting him unto the stretcher.

"Miss, I assume you'd like to ride along?"

"Yes I would, is that ok?"

"Absolutely."

Sybil squeezed Tom's hand and quickly brushed her lips across his knuckles, "I'll be right down, just let me grab keys and a t-shirt for you.

"Thanks." Tom's voice had lost its ragged edge; he was relieved now that he knew that help was close and he wasn't going to die on the floor of his bathroom. As they wheeled him out of the flat, his mind wandered a little thinking of what his obituary would say if he had died in that bathroom. 'Man withers away after bizarre accident involving shower sex?' His brother Kieran would probably deliver some eulogy saying, "At least Tom went out with a bang, doing what he loved…or who he loved…"

Once again, Sybil scurried through their flat collecting what seemed like necessities and putting them in an old duffle bag. She felt fuzzy, like she couldn't quite think of what she should be putting in the bag. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off and left her tired. She grabbed a shirt, socks and a pair of Nikes for Tom and a hoodie for herself. She reached for her keys and phone off the kitchen counter and fled out the door. Halfway down the stairs she realized that she had not locked the door. Shaking her head in frustration she ran back up to lock up the flat and then quickly headed back down to the waiting ambulance.

As she climbed in, she was struck by the fact that she had never been in an ambulance before; it seemed so small and severe. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Tom; she wanted to hold him, to comfort him, to somehow get back to the morning they had spent together before all this had happened. Ever since they had crashed through that stupid shower door, she hadn't been able to think clearly; she just went from moment to moment figuring out what to do next, like she was checking off a list. She never stopped to consider that Tom might really be hurt, that it could be serious. But now, looking at him lying under the sterile looking blankets, she was so incredibly thankful that his injury appeared to be just a bad sprain.

Tom looked up at Sybil and gave her a small but genuine smile as if to reassure her that under the blanket and tubes, he was still the same Tom, "Get lost on the way down, did ya?"

She sat down next to Tom and took his hand, "I forgot to lock the door."

"Ah, good thinking." He grasped her now shaking hands, trying to calm her. "Seriously Olivia, I'm thinking my wife needs some of those lovely drugs you were talking about."

"Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need." Sybil laughed uneasily and pushed an errant curl behind her ear. "How are you doing? Does it still hurt like hell?"

"Yeah, kinda, but more stiff than anything. I think if I just don't move ever again I'll be fine. How's your head?"

"It's not bad."

"Actually, Olivia will you look at her forehead while we're here?"

Olivia looked at Sybil's head and then looked at Tom. She tried to suppress a smile as she began to examine Sybil, "How did you say you hurt yourself again?"

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Author's note: I'm new to fanfiction. So I really hope I did this okay. I'm from the US, and even though I did some research, I'm not 100 percent everything is accurate when it comes to things they would say etc. Please review. Should I continue writing or just stick to reading?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sybil had no idea why it was that hospitals always seemed to be showing talk shows on a continuous loop. Did some group of consultants come in and tell them that people tended to be more calm in waiting rooms if they were reminded that somewhere, someone was weirder or more screwed up than they were? It was Saturday afternoon; how was Oprah even on? She laughed under her breath when she realized that it actually worked because while she had been absorbed by the woman who had rescued a dog from a frozen lake, she had forgotten that Tom was in some exam room being treated for his, well, injury.

She nervously juggled a cold pack in her hands. The paramedics had given it to her in the ambulance to put on her forehead. Eventually the pain from the coldness was more than the pain of the bump, so now she just looked at it like the cold pack was a marvel of modern medicine. How did it work? How could you just crack it and it was cold when it wasn't before?

She looked up and noticed an older man sitting across from her, smiling warmly. "Are you alright, young lady?"

Sybil didn't really want to talk, but the man seemed so friendly she didn't want to be rude. "I'm alright."

"I only ask because you've been staring at that thing for a while."

"Yeah, I was just wondering how it got so cold…" She trailed off realizing that while Tom would think her curiosity was endearing, this man would probably think she was an idiot.

"First time in A&E?" His voice was kind and tinged with age.

"Yeah, at least, first time in a long time."

"Ah - I come here a lot it seems."

Sybil didn't want to pry, but he did open the door and it would be a welcome distraction. "Oh… how come?"

The man seemed to react to the concern that she knew was written on her face, "Oh, it's actually nothing so terrible. You see I have three sons, who each have children just as curious and reckless as their fathers. There was a time when the nurses knew me by name."

"Oh." Sybil breathed out a sigh of relief.

"My wife, Annie," he stood up and stretched, letting out a heavy breath as he reached his arms over his head, "she hates these places, so I've the sort of become official hospital taker in this family."

"That's sweet." Sybil touched her lips while she let her mind wander to the possibility that one day Tom might have to take their child to get stitches or something. The idea was at once adorable and terrifying.

"Well, it may be sweet, but…." He turned to her conspiratorially, "it can be a real pain in the you know what." He winked, and Sybil knew he was trying to make her feel better, make her laugh. She immediately thought of Tom and her smile faded a little. She wondered how it was going; they had been back there a long time. Unconsciously, her head turned down the long hallway where they had taken Tom almost an hour ago. "Do you want some coffee? They make great coffee here, much better than St Thomas."

"No, thank you." She looked up at him and smiled, thinking maybe he had tried all the hospitals in search of the best coffee, "Thank you for asking."

He lightly patted her hand, "They take good care of people here. Don't worry." She smiled to herself, she knew they took good care of people there - she worked there. Albeit not in the Accident and Emergency department, but upstairs on the surgical ward. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or not for not knowing any of the nurses down here in A&E.

He slowly walked down the hall to the cafeteria, leaving Sybil with her thoughts. She thought about how strange it was that you felt such a bond with your waiting room brethren. She wondered what the older man was in for this time? Falling off a bike, twisted ankle, a bumped head? She touched her own bumped head as it seemed to throb a little in sympathy. Olivia had looked at it in the ambulance and felt confident that everything was fine. She had given Sybil the cold pack and later a nurse gave her some aspirin.

She jumped when she heard her name suddenly announced across the room. Everyone turned to look at her as she said, "Yes, I'm Mrs. Branson."

"Come with me please."

Sybil walked behind the nurse, quiet, like a student being taken to the principal's office. It felt like she was speaking out of turn when she finally broke the silence, "Is Tom okay?"

"Yes, miss, he'll be fine. He just strained his back in his fall."

They stopped in front of a cracked door and Sybil instinctively felt the need to whisper, "Are you sure?"

The nurse lowered her tone slightly, as if she didn't want Sybil to feel alone in the quiet, "Yes, we did x-rays. The doctor gave him a muscle relaxant and a dose of a pain medication, so he's pretty comfortable at this point." The nurse started flipping the pages of a chart that had been sitting in the plastic bin on the front of the door. Sybil nodded, trying to take it all in, but all she had really heard was he'll be fine and after that her mind wandered to thoughts of Tom.

"Ok, what now? I mean, do we stay here?"

"The Doctor will be by to check him within the hour and then he'll probably let him go home. He'll be out of commission for a few days."

She patted Sybil on the shoulder and gently pushed her to the door. The room was lit with florescent bulbs outlining the ceiling of the room. Tom was stretched out on the small twin bed seeming oddly small despite the fact that the bed just barely fit him. She sat down on the stool next to him and reached out to hold his hand. He looked absolutely peaceful in this drug induced haze; his features devoid of the earlier pain, head rolled slightly to the side. She swept his hair off his forehead. He didn't stir at all to her touch and part of her hated that. She'd never seen him like this; so quiet, still. Tom was always in motion it seemed, either physically or mentally. She knew that he was fine, but part of her ached to just talk to him, to hear his voice again.

She decided to pass the time trying to think of a good reason that Tom could call in sick on Monday. The nurse did say that he'd be out of it for a few days and clearly a cover story was needed. She wanted to wake him up to think of funny excuses together, but she decided to just run the winners by him later.

After a half hour of studying his features while she imaged bizarre hysterical reasons he would have to call in, she decided to tell James, his best friend and boss at the newspaper that he hurt himself playing football.

"Mrs. Branson?" She looked up to see a graying gentleman in a white coat holding Tom's chart, studying it a moment before he walked up to the other side of Tom's bed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, is Tom okay?"

"He'll be fine." Sybil wondered when the word fine had been elected the word of the day. "We're gonna send you two home now."

" Isn't he a little out of it?"

"Oh, he will be for a little while. I'm going to send you home with a prescription for the pain. He needs to stay on his back for the next 48 hours or so, and then take it easy for a week after that."

Tom liked to sleep on his side; she thought he probably wouldn't like lying on his back like this. She dreaded trying to get him to take it easy; Tom hated being sick. He would never let her help him for fear of being some kind of burden on her. He was the epitome of the selfless patient, and it was frankly kind of annoying. In fact, the last time he had the flu he wouldn't even let her stay home to help and in the end she came home to find him nearly dehydrated.

The doctor flicked some kind of switch on the IV and started to softly nudge Tom, "Mr. Branson…Tom…your wife is here. Time to go home."

After several minutes, Tom's eyes fluttered open and Sybil thought that it might be the greatest sight she had seen in a long time. "Home?" Tom's voice was rough, gravelly.

"Hey." Sybil touched his cheek, and he turned toward her, "Glad you're awake."

"Hmmmm….yeah, I feel sort of…"

"Out of it?"

"Drunk."

"That's normal, Tom." The doctor cut in, "You're going to need to stay in bed for a little bit."

"I'll say; no more showers." Tom's voice was slurred, and the doctor looked at him like he understood; Sybil hoped that he was just being nice and had no idea why Tom had said that.

"Yes, no more showers…" The doctor looked at Sybil with a look of amusement in his eyes and whispered to her, "People say all kinds of things in this state."

Sybil tried to suppress the embarrassment that was threatening to tinge her cheeks. She watched as the doctor wrote out the prescription while the nurse took one last check of Tom's vitals. Tom kept moving his arm as the nurse tried to take off the pulse monitor on his finger; Sybil marveled that the nurse didn't lose patience with him.

"Mr. Branson, I just need to take this off."

"Off, on, …you should have seen Sybil trying to put my boxers on….not good at on, really good at off though…"

"Tom!" Sybil was certain that she was being punished at this point.

"Don't worry, dear, you wouldn't believe what we hear in here. And he is high as a kite." She finally freed Tom's arm from the monitor and IV and turned to Sybil, "Do you want to call your ride home?"

"Ride home?" She said the words slowly, hoping they might change meaning if she drug them out long enough. She hadn't thought about a ride home, and, really, who could she call for this? She'd call Gwen and Andrew. As she started to scroll through the numbers in her phone, she realized that they were out of town this weekend. Who did that leave? Her friend Susan from work? No, she'll be asleep, she has to be in work early tomorrow…. Her sister, Edith would ask a million questions and she lived 45 minutes away. She stopped on a name and decided it was the best in a bunch of bad options.

"Hello?"

"Matthew….it's Sybil."

"Hi, Sybil. How are you?" Sybil smiled into the phone; Matthew's voice was always so soothing.

"Um, okay, …listen…" She had no idea how to get this out. This would be an excellent opportunity to practice the cover story for Monday. If she could say this to Matthew, she could say it to James. She started out calm and confident, willing herself to believe that she was telling the truth. "Tom hurt his back today playing football and we had to call an ambulance, but I don't have a car…."

"Oh my word, is he alright?"

"Yes, he will be, but I need a ride home, and I really _really_ hate to ask, but…"

"Sybil, Mary and I will be right over, don't say another word."

Sybil let out a heavy sigh of relief and leaned against the wall, "Thank you so much. We're at Queen Anne's Hospital." Sybil finished giving Matthew directions and went down to sign the necessary forms at discharge. As she was heading back to the room, the nurse wheeled Tom down the hall toward her.

"Miss, here's the prescription. You'll want to get that filled today, okay? And if you need anything at all….give us a call."

"Thank you." Sybil started to push Tom outside.

"Yes, thank you nice lady." Tom slurred over his shoulder.

'Nice lady…' Sybil rolled the words around in her head. She could not believe the version of Tom that sat before her; she had never seen him like this. Never in all the years of late nights, or bottles of wine, or even that one night at The Kings Head with his friends and all the pitchers…never had she seen him so out of it. In fact, drunk Tom was a lot like sober Tom, just a little more open. This drugged out Tom was unbelievable.

"Alright…Matthew is coming to get us…"

"Matthew is really _nice_ too."

Sybil had to suppress her hysterical laughter at this point. She wondered if she could figure out how to record him on her phone; this was such good blackmail material.

"So is Mary, is she coming with?" he lowered his voice for the last part in a pretty fair imitation. "I wonder if they ever did it in the shower. We should tell them not to." He was nodding really seriously as Sybil walked over to the side of the wheelchair and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Tom." She said firmly. "We cannot tell people about the shower, okay?"

He whispered back at her, "Why? Is it a secret?"

Sybil realized that she was now negotiating with Tom's ten year old self. "Yes, it is a secret. You hurt yourself playing football, remember this, FOOTBALL.

Tom seemed to think very hard for a minute. "Did I play football today? Did we win?"

Sybil put her head on his shoulder in frustration. "Tom, we need to tell people that you got hurt playing football, because the shower thing is a secret."

He took another long minute to think, a heavy look of confusion on his face, "Right." He drew out the word and leaned into her again, "a secret." Sybil smiled at him, relieved that he understood. "Syyyb…you're so _cuute._"

She giggled at the way he could shift from being totally serious about their secret to giving her a goofy grin and telling her that she was cute. There was something so devastatingly vulnerable about him in this moment that all she wanted to do was hold him in her arms. Protect him, love him. She settled for kissing him on the forehead in the car park of Queen Anne's.

She heard a car horn beep twice and saw that the Mary and Matthew had arrived. "Hi, we came as fast as we could…Tom are you okay?"

"I was playing football in the shower."

Mary looked at him and then looked at Sybil with a questioning look on her face. "What is he talking about?"

Sybil flushed a total shade of crimson. He had tried to get it right, and she had to love him for it, but apparently this was going to be the day from Hell. "Never mind Mary, he is really out of it."

"Ok-aay" Mary sounded not altogether convinced, which should not have surprised anyone given the fact Mary could always see right through them.

Matthew carefully helped Tom up and into the back seat of the van. Sybil got in and let him rest his head in her lap on the way home. She brushed her fingers through his hair with one hand, almost absentmindedly, like her fingers had a will on their own. She silently prayed that he would fall asleep and not say another word about any bathroom fixture. At this point, if she never heard the word bathroom again it would be too soon.

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Thanks for the reviews. I had this part written up ready, in case people were interested. Hope you enjoy!


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